DISCLAIMER: Highlander and its canon characters are the property of Davis/Panzer Productions or a successor corporation; no copyright infringement is intended.

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Note: This fic is a follow-up to the episode "Little Tin God," whose ending I've always disliked. For any reader who isn't familiar with the episode, or has forgotten details over the years, here's a brief summary of the relevant parts of it.

Centuries ago, the Spanish Immortal Gavriel Larca reigned over a Central American tribe - not as their king, but as their god. In our time, he found a new way to surround himself with slaves: killing pre-Immortals (without their knowing he'd done it), then "bringing them back to life" and convincing them he was God. And Duncan MacLeod, with whom he had a "history," was the Devil! One of Larca's victims was a devout young man named Derek Worth - whose minister, Thomas Bell, took heroic risks to save him. MacLeod finally killed Larca; Derek and the other captive Immortals learned the truth; and Reverend Bell agreed to keep in touch with the Watchers. At one point, he voiced the disturbing thought that "some of the gods and prophets of history" might just have been "Immortals with delusions of grandeur, like Larca." Joe Dawson couldn't put that out of his mind. But when he suggested it to MacLeod, MacLeod dismissed his concern...ultimately telling him he should rely on "faith."

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Duncan MacLeod had been lingering at a corner table in Joe's Bar, nursing a single drink, for more than an hour before the last of the other patrons drifted away.

Joe came over to him. "Want a refill? Or just want to talk?"

"Uh, I think I want both."

He drained his glass. Joe refilled it, then sat down and poured one for himself.

"Still thinking about Larca?" Joe ventured. He looked troubled, as if he hadn't been able to put the incident behind him.

"Yes," MacLeod acknowledged. "About him...but mostly about what I said to you. When you suggested others might have been like him..."

"It's OK, Mac! Like you said, Reverend Bell was upset when he talked like that. I shouldn't have let it bother me."

MacLeod shook his head. "I should have given you a better answer. And now, I intend to.

"To begin with, I know you weren't really thinking about 'gods and prophets' in general, Joe. Neither was Reverend Bell. You were thinking about Jesus."

Joe grimaced. "Yes, of course. I don't think either of us could bring ourselves to say the name."

"And I regret all that blather I gave you," MacLeod went on, "about how I could have 'made a lot of arguments, quoted a lot of smart people' - but I wasn't going to do it. I think that was a line I'd heard someone else use. I was ashamed to admit that I couldn't come up with an argument!

"But now I've thought it through, and I think I can assure you Jesus wasn't just an Immortal.

"The first point I want to make is about Immortals. I can't make a temporarily 'dead' Immortal or pre-Immortal come back to life right when I want him to, by a 'laying on of hands'! Larca is the only Immortal I've ever known who could do that. I'm guessing it's a skill that can only be developed by long practice. And Larca could have practiced on Immortals he was holding captive.

"Then...I'm sure you've been thinking of Jesus's having raised his friend Lazarus from the dead - and also, the daughter of a man named Jairus. If we assume he was an Immortal, he could have known Lazarus was a pre-Immortal. But when he agreed to go with Jairus - a complete stranger - and revive his daughter, he'd never seen that daughter. As far as we know, he had no reason to think she might be a pre-Immortal.

"Here's the strongest argument against his having been an Immortal. We're told he was scourged - a brutal whipping. If he was an Immortal, the wounds would have healed immediately, like magic! And we surely would have heard about something that astonishing."

Joe was nodding. "I should have thought of those things! Your last argument alone would have been enough to convince me."

MacLeod heaved a sigh of relief. All right. I won't have to go any further.

But Joe had more to say. "So...Jesus wasn't Immortal during his ministry. But he didn't necessarily have miraculous powers, either! The stories about his having raised people from the dead could be legends, tales that came to be told about many ancient prophets after their deaths.

"But in this case...it's Jesus's own Resurrection that's the basis of our faith. And he could simply have been a pre-Immortal, who 'rose from the dead' because he'd had his 'first death' on the cross!"

Oh, no! But I'll have to go on, tell him more.

After taking a few seconds to organize his thoughts, MacLeod said, "But nothing we know about his actions after his Resurrection would suggest that.

"Guards were watching the tomb all night. They didn't see anything out of the ordinary till women came and found it empty. So if Jesus was there, he must have simply vanished.

"Later, he caused people who should have recognized him not to recognize him till he'd been talking to them for some time. He's said to have 'appeared' in rooms without entering through the door. And he let 'doubting Thomas' put his hand in an open wound - that was still there, though it seemingly wasn't causing him any pain.

"None of that is consistent with Immortals!"

He held his breath, waiting for Joe's response.

And let it out, thankfully, when his friend gave a rueful smile.

"You're right again," Joe said. "Maybe I should spend some time reading the Bible! Catholics, at least in my experience, hardly ever look at it. We just believe what we've been taught - that the Resurrection is all-important."

"Same here," MacLeod replied, with a good-natured chuckle. "But I'm sure I've read less of it than you! Remember, I was illiterate the whole time I was growing up. When I did learn to read, I was too concerned with fending off killer Immortals to tackle something as...dense...as the Bible. I think I read more last night than I ever had before."

They both, happily, resumed drinking. And didn't stop with the drinks Joe had already poured.

But when MacLeod was walking home, he let himself think about how that binge of Bible-reading had affected him.

He'd been troubled on discovering that the Lazarus story - which should have seemed very important - appeared in only one of the four Gospels, the last-written. And that the two Gospel accounts of the "Jairus's daughter" story didn't agree on details.

But that was nothing compared with his surprise on learning what had happened after the "Resurrection."

He wasn't sure whether the way he'd always understood Jesus's crucifixion was his own idea, or something he'd been taught. But he'd definitely been taught that - for Catholics - it was the Resurrection, not the death, that was all-important. So he'd believed that Jesus had allowed himself to be executed, in the most public way, so that when he rose from the dead, no one could doubt that he'd really been dead.

But now, it seemed, there were grounds for doubt that he'd risen! If he had, why hadn't he done anything? A religion based on nothing more than a dozen or so believers' claims that he'd "appeared" to them made no more sense than belief in Santa Claus!

MacLeod had set out to reassure Joe, confirm his faith. And he'd succeeded, because Joe hadn't thought to go beyond establishing that Jesus hadn't been an Immortal.

But in confirming Joe's faith, he'd shattered his own.

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The End